You
by dattebayo1213
Summary: Naruto finds himself alone, after the villagers are done with him, waiting in "their spot" for a certain lavender eyed girl to show up, although he's spent the last five years waiting for her to come back. Will she come back for him? Or will she not?


Title: You

A/N: This would be a prequel to "The Future", if anyone's read it. If you haven't, I highly suggest you do. It's on Mieke's account. I helped. LOTS. BELIEVE IT! Anyway, I thought there needed to be some background for Naruto and Hinata's rather… interesting relationship. So here it is. I may or may not do more, in terms of Naruto's thoughts about everyone.

_They always said_

_Love wasn't possible for someone like me_

_That I was a tool_

_For their benefit_

_And I would die as I lived_

_Alone_

A twelve year old boy sat on the empty bench in the storm, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his T-shirt was not performing its job anymore, that the thing cloth barely protected his skin from the onslaught of cold and snow, and that the blood seeping through was barely inhibited. They were right. He didn't deserve anything. And that was why he was dying.

The demon inside him made him trash, lower than human, existing only by its powers, to serve the will of the village. A tool. Nothing more, nothing less. The only love he had known was from the Naras—everyone else treated him like trash, the trash he knew he was. He smiled as he pressed his hand to his shirt, the blood staining his hand a dark red, as he thought, _"They won't have to put up with me much longer. I'll be gone before morning."_ And then they can forget. She can forget… if she still remembers.

_Way back then_

_You were just a ray of sunlight_

_Disrupting my world of perpetual winter_

_But you kept melting the ice_

_Little by little_

_Until you held in your hands what little of a heart I had left_

_And then, you became something more_

He had dragged himself here with the last of his strength, hoping for the one person he had met here all of his childhood. She hadn't come back for four… five years to this spot, where they had spent their childhood watching others on the park, occasionally taking a turn on the swings themselves, but a part of him hoped that she would come back tonight. Because he knew that she was the only one who could save him now. She was the only one he had trusted with all of his secrets, all of his burdens. And she was the only one who could make it okay. So he waited, shaking with suppressed sobs, and possibly the cold, although he'd never admit it, as he sat on the bench, the snow coming to rest on his hair, his shoulders, his knees, with the hope that she would, after five years of leaving him so completely and utterly alone, come back. And maybe the ice around his heart would melt again. Because it had felt so good when it had before… but so horrible when it had come back…

_Someone I could trust_

_With everything_

_With anything_

_Someone to hold onto_

_Someone I could cry in front of_

_Without killing afterwards_

_For the simple crime of witnessing a moment of my weakness_

She had taken all of him when she left, when she had said those words: "My father doesn't want me to play with you anymore." That had been years and years ago. And he had laughed it off outwardly, as if it was a joke, but inside he knew this was her time to leave, and that no matter how much he protested, she would, and he let her go. He knew now that he should have stopped her, told her it didn't matter what her father thought, but his own mouth had stayed shut, keeping his stolid nature intact. Because tools couldn't be weak. They couldn't feel. They couldn't love. He was merely an inanimate object—pretending to live, pretending to smile, and pretending to breathe. And she could do all of those things... for real. She deserved someone like herself, he had told himself, someone who can tell her he loves her, someone who could protect her, someone, anyone, who isn't him.

_You were you_

_And that was all I needed_

_For me to believe_

_That I was something more than they said I was_

_That I thought I could ever be_

_And then you walked away_

_Leaving the ice to reform around my heart_

He heard soft footsteps, and a gasp as someone brushed away the collecting snow, which had melted all over his pants and shirt, causing the blood stains to become more obvious. A hand was pressed to his forehead, and his dimming eyes looked upwards into a pair of comforting lavender ones. "Anou… hold on! I'll… I'll… I'll get a medic, Naruto-kun!" She yelled the last part, her face turning a bright red and her fists clenching in her efforts to complete her sentence, just as they had all those years ago. She flagged down a nearby doctor, on their way home from work, and her eyes never left his as he healed all the cuts and bruises, her hand squeezed his so hard the blood left it. "I missed you… Naruto-kun…" She whispered, thinking I was asleep. "I love you still…" Maybe, someday, he could admit it too. He could be… like her.

A/N: Found this poem on the internet. Don't remember where. I thought it was cute. So I used it.


End file.
